


💕Sardan Harrison💕

by Liversquatch



Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - US 21st c., Real Person Fiction
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Gay, Intellectual Dark Web, M/M, Politics, Right-Wing Political Commentators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25004824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liversquatch/pseuds/Liversquatch
Summary: A very fast read, this is my first time writing something like this and I plan on adding more in the future :)
Relationships: Sam Harris/Jordan B. Peterson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Gay Pride Month





	💕Sardan Harrison💕

**Author's Note:**

> A very fast read, this is my first time writing something like this and I plan on adding more in the future :)

“No Jordan, it’s not that I don’t enjoy it, not at all, it’s just that this is the fourth time we’ve had fucking lobster this week.”

Jordan approached the kitchen table where Sam was already sat, carrying the plate with their meal and a spatula for serving. “Well, it’s a timeless dish. Plus it’s a well needed reminder of the ever present dominance hierarchy within our social spaces. Need I remind you of your position on that hierarchy?” Jordan wryly grinned at Sam, and proceeded to slap his own ass with the spatula and mock-moan with sexual ecstasy.

Flustered, Sam put his head in his hands and muttered, “Could you please save it for the bedroom Jordan?”

“Well now, it looks like your face has become just as red as the lobster’s, hahaha.”

Sam couldn’t stay mad at Jordan for too long, especially when he had such a cute laugh. The two ate their meal without further conflict, idly chatting about a non-binary student who had been attending Jordan’s psychology lectures, and then about Ezra Klein’s latest Vox article. The two finished eating, then headed over to the living room where they curled up on the couch together and watched the latest episode of Westworld.

About a third of the way through, Sam turned his head to face Jordan and whispered, “JP, I’m sorry for having yelled at you. You are truly an accomplished cook.”

Jordan smiled sweetly and kissed Sam on the forehead. “Good, thank you. Now, tell me more about how I've earned these accomplishments of mine.”

Sam loved it when Jordan demanded such praise from him. The dominance was deeply comforting; it made him feel small, which is an easily manageable space to exist in. Though, in this instance, Jordan had made a fundamental assumption that Sam just had to address.

“Well here’s the problem Jordan, as you continue to become more mindful of your experience, your thoughts and how they enter and leave consciousness, you’ll helplessly become aware of the fact that you are not the author of your actions, nor are you the author of your thoughts and intentions. So it is wrong to say that you have earned your accomplishments, but rather you’ve just been profoundly lucky. One role of the cosmic dice and you’d have none of your success.”

“Careful there Sam, lest you begin to embody the archetype of the Prodigal Son. You see, one day the son decides ‘I’ve bloody had enough of this. Better pack my bags and leave my family behind.’ It’s a fundamental rejection of the patriarchal structures enshrined in Judeo-Christian values. But the son is ultimately unfulfilled with this alternate way of living. He becomes isolated in the estrangement from his father, and eventually reconciles his differences and recognizes the value of his original paradigm. The trouble is, the worldview that the son adopts while on his journey away from his family is a fundamentally nihilistic one. Now, where’s the free choice in that?”

There was a moment of silent comprehension before Sam sighed and responded.

“What I find so deeply frustrating is, despite how much, how broadly we agree on various topics, in fact I’d say on more topics than not, and how seamlessly your conversations with other men seem to go, I find that ninety percent of the things you say are brilliant, but the other ten percent is just bullshit.”

“Now Sam, I’d be careful throwing that word around in places it doesn’t belong.” 

“Here, Jordan, come with me to the kitchen, let me show you something.”

“Oh no not this again.”

Sam detached himself from their embrace and walked back into the kitchen, Jordan helplessly following. Sam approached the stove and turned it on, then turned back towards Jordan.

“Now let’s entertain this possibility just for a moment: let’s posit there are no moral truths in the world, and so all sentences beginning with the word ‘ought’ are rendered nonsensical. Alright, there still exist a myriad of things,” widely gesturing around him to the various appliances of the kitchen. “Including you and me, conscious minds, all of which exist on a continuum of possible experience. Now, some of those experiences contain more suffering than others, which is a neurological phenomenon we can physically observe in the lab.”

“But Sam, let me just stop you there. You see, the trouble is, it's simply more complicated than that.”

“Well then let me be succinct about it. One: assume moral truths do not exist. Two: conscious minds do exist, which are susceptible to-”

“Oh boy, there you go again with your endless listing, sounding like bloody William Lane Craig.”

“H-how dare you, compare me, I mean, have you even viewed my remarks on the man in my - he’s nothing more than a bad actor, which maybe is something you might know a thing or two about.”

“Well listen here bucko, I’ll have you know I’m nothing like that deceiving, conniving little fascist of a man masquerading under his banner of Chrisianity! This is tyranny! I won’t have perversions the likes of you roaming our streets, telling our growing, learning boys that it’s okay to be a girl if they want to be; every society that ventured down that path is now in ruins!”

Then Sam knelt to the ground and started crying. Jordan instantly realized he had gone too far, and all of his previous anger evaporated immediately. He sat down on the tiled floor next to Sam and put his arm around him in confort.

Sam looked up at Jordan and said through tears, “Is it me? Am I the problem? Am I just not smart enough to understand? Everyone else seems to get along with you just fine, perfectly happy to accept your worldview without question. I feel like I’m the only one in the world who can’t understand.”

Jordan was teary eyed at this point too. “Hey, listen kid, it’s not a bad thing that we disagree. It makes us stronger when we challenge each other’s beliefs. It’s why I love you Sam.”

“I love you too Jordan.”

“Now, let me help you up and into bed, I made it nice and neat this morning, just for you.”

Sam laughed, “Yeah, just like you do every morning.” Sam reached up to the counter-top to pull himself up from the floor, then suddenly shrieked and pulled his hand away from the surface.

Jordan looked back over at Sam and said with a grin, “Careful with that stove, I’ve heard somewhere that it’s not the most pleasant thing to touch.”


End file.
